What He Deserves
by bartagnans
Summary: Although Max believed otherwise, Mike had been the first to wake that morning after. Episode tag: 3x04


_I had a thought, or rather a few and I wanted a canon situation to explore them. So I remembered this little gem from season 3 episode 4 and decided to add a wee bit to Maxton's morning after scene. Its short, but still something. Please read, review and enjoy._

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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 **WHAT HE DESERVES**

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They'd fallen asleep with the light on. Sometime during the night, the bulb must've blown because it was out by the time Mike woke the next morning. Not that they would've noticed the loud pop in their deep state of unconscious. It was likely the best sleep he'd gotten in God knows how long. Though, he was sure it had been around 11 months ago, before he'd left her: his anchor that lulled him to sleep, to rest and to forget the toils of the day.

Craning his head to the right, that's where he found her - asleep and undisturbed. His heart twitches at the corners of his mouth, urging it up into a smile.

Max lay on her side with her back toward him. The thin sheet reached only their hips, baring her subtly muscled back to the air. Mike would've reached out and adjusted the covers over her shoulders to shield her from the cold, but he feared waking her and he was enjoying the view too much to have it torn away by her bashful inhibitions.

For all Mike wanted to touch her, he felt disinclined to do. Although they'd rekindled their desire for each other last night, he didn't feel as though he'd earned the right to look at her, much less make love to her. He felt blessed to not be the focus of those deathly glares he'd expected to receive upon his return to the states - though she'd given him a fair few. He couldn't fault her for those, he'd deserved as much and he'd accepted that.

Watching her now, her flesh stripped free of all clothing by his hands just a few hours prior, he couldn't help but feel vindicated and somewhat triumphant. He'd spend the past few months wondering, worrying whether or not she'd moved on completely. Would her feelings for Tom replace and shadow anything she'd felt for Mike? Did she outright refuse to acknowledge whatever feelings she'd felt for him the moment he'd walked out her life to the point where they were lost? Lost and forgotten?

No. If last night was proof of anything, they weren't lost. Yes, with Mike's prolonged absence, what Max felt for him had exhausted its flames but an ember remained. A flicker of a former love that, with a spark, could be rekindled into the fire it once was. And for all she tried to fight it, through the tears and the scotch, it had consumed her; burning toward the surface until her mouth plundered his with its heat.

He had leaned in to continue, but stopped by her lips with their noses touching, granting her a moment to reconsider what they'd do should she choose to kiss him again. He let her know what he wanted but he also preferred to do it on her terms. It was something he'd done often before in that first month of their relationship, stretching back to the first kiss. It was a mechanism he'd adapted that, Max quickly learned was a way to give her a chance to run; to walk away from him.

He didn't deserve her - someone so good and pure; someone so willing to give and expect nothing in return, even if that meant the cold shoulder. If he didn't deserve her then, what hope did he have now, after everything he'd put her through? She deserved more than him, more than what he'd offered her.

Just then, in afterthought to the previous night, Mike felt the guilt slipping in. And he felt like a scumbag. She'd been drinking and she'd kissed him in a fit of emotions and he compelled her to want more. And he'd given it to her. Of course he had, because that's the kind of selfish bastard he is. Takes, takes and takes what he can get and gives nothing back. Max would wake up soon feeling far worse than he did because she cheated on her boyfriend with her ex and he'd let her. Despite her heated, slightly drunken state of mind, he'd let her. He hadn't pried her arms from around his neck or disentangled himself from her limbs and left her to sleep alone. Instead, he fell into her and loved her for all that she was worth because that's what she deserved - to be loved. Still, he hadn't meant to fill her with regret.

Would she regret it? He didn't. No, despite his slandering of despicable choices, he couldn't regret being with her. He only hoped that, deep down, she didn't either, not for the reasons that mattered. She'd deny it, of course, of that he was certain, but... it was real. It was real and he'd felt it. He'd felt it when she tugged him across the loft that was her apartment to her bed. He'd felt it when he lowered them onto the mattress and again when they'd writhed against each other in an effort to rediscover familiar territory. And he'd felt it while they descended from the brink of climax and his body fell flat against hers. His lips had kissed her neck in some sort of gesture to promise the truth in what he'd felt. She'd have to have been pretty hammered not to have shared in that.

That was another thing. Had she been drinking a lot lately? Often and too much? He really didn't want to know, but if she was intent on following her Uncle's path down the barrel, he'd be damned if he let her. She couldn't do this to herself; drink her worries away into oblivion for a shorter time than what it was worth. She's better than that - better than him and most certainly better than Ryan. She is everything they don't deserve to be and Mike would ensure that she remained that way, whether she liked it or not.

Suddenly, Max shifted and prompted Mike's attention. She rolled onto her back but she was still asleep, clutching the covers to her chest.

Mike stared at her for a moment longer and was overcome with emotions he hadn't quite the vocabulary to explain. It was beyond words; beyond comprehension.

He drifted back to sleep as he wondered what their lives would be like had he never walked out her door. Later when he woke up again, he was unsure how long had passed but it likely wasn't much seeing as Max was still in bed. She was awake now and staring at the ceiling. He wished only to know what she was thinking.

Smiling once more, he shifted closer to her and said, "Morning."

"Hey." Max responded softly. Maybe he'd be lucky and she'd not try to deny anything, Mike hoped as he reached out to touch her. Then she pulled away from him.

Apparently he didn't deserve that either.


End file.
